Methos
by CayshaGriffin
Summary: A peek into Methos journals concerning his encounters with the Highlander. Starts with the episode 'Methos'.
1. Methos

Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander or Methos, reality bites.

Summary: A glance at Methos journal entries for each encounter with the Highlander, starting with 'Methos'.

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_March 6th, 1995_

_Well Darius, I've finally met your Highlander. It was like having an over eager toddler tugging at my pant leg, declaring he'd be my white knight, wooden sword and all. You'd think I'd gone senile in my old age with the way he was treating me, or that I was still some fragile new immortal. I'm still not sure which one is the worst misconception on his part._

_That naive valor mixed with his bull headed determination is frustrating and amusing at the same time. And It almost got him killed tonight, hell--it almost got me killed. Though, I think mine ran more along the lines of attempted suicide, that or a rather risky gamble. Either way I walked away with my life and a disapproving Scottish scowl boring into my back. At least if MacLeod had taken my head it would of been someone of my choosing. I mean how often does an immortal get to hand pick their executioner?_

_I found out very quickly this morning that I couldn't beat Kalas, a rather painful epiphany which hit before we both landed in the Seine's stinking waters. And sending the Highlander to his death seemed such a waste. So I made sure the police arrived once MacLeod had tired the bastard out, after I'd planted a sufficient amount of evidence to put Kalas away for life, of course. _

_I'm sorry that I wasn't strong enough to avenge you, Don. But we couldn't risk losing the Highlander, not now. If I've ever for one moment believed in the Game, then I believe he could the One. I think that's a future worth protecting, and I know you and Darius would agree. MacLeod's not ready yet, but he will be. I still don't think the he understands the reasoning behind my interference and that suits me just fine._

_For now I just have to disappear for a while and watch, two things I'm extremely good at._

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Author's Note: Reviews make me very happy.


	2. Finale

Disclaimer: I do not own Methos or Highlander.

Author's Note: Journal entry for Finale part 1 and 2. Enjoy!

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_May 29th, 1995_

_Well, the world decided not to end today, and I'm not lying on some government medical slab with a toe tag declaring me as 'Immortal Subject #2'. I'd say that counts as a good day._

_Honestly I didn't expect a visit to Christine's would end up sending the world as we know it into hysteria. She'd called me up out of the blue, asking to talk with me and Joe, and wouldn't we please come out to Paris so we could all meet? I couldn't turn her down, we were friends, had been ever since I joined the Watchers. And no matter how indirectly, I was the cause of Don's death. Whether she knew that or not, I still owed her a debt I could never begin to repay._

_Of course it wasn't difficult for me to reach Paris, seeing as I'd never actually left in the first place. With Kalas in jail there was no longer any danger for me, so why leave? I happened to like Paris. Moving all my things across town that quickly had been a bloody nightmare, and more money then I could argue down with only a few hours to spare, but it fooled MacLeod. In his eyes I was long gone, making it all that much easier to keep tabs on the young Scott from afar._

_But when Christine called all it took was a ring from 'Methos' to bring Joe all the way from Seacouver. I really didn't like the new look of awe in Dawson's eyes when I picked him up from the airport, I preferred the grumpy glare I used to get at LeBlue's when I was in a particularly smart ass mood. So I rambled on about the intricacies of air guitar in route to MacLeod's in a way that would make even the most socially desperate teenager want to strangle me with their sneaker laces. I managed a ten-minute speel before Joe politely informed me that I was either to 'shut the hell up' or find myself forcibly ejected from the speeding vehicle, with high emphasis on the speeding part. Good old Joe._

_Good old MacLeod too, I was delighted to see a sword in his hand when I walked in the barge, at least he wasn't shaking hands first, asking if they were there for a coffee or his head after. It was supposed to be a simple poke our heads in and leave trip to appease Joe that his precious Highlander was doing just fine. Then MacLeod informed us of Amanda's latest act of good will and just like that, his problems were my problems._

_Rebecca had always sworn that her little pupil was bright, but who the hell thinks that breaking an immortal serial killer out of jail is a good idea? I mean, one thousand years of life experience and the four hundred year old pup has got more brains then her._

_And of course the day only got better as it wore on. Turns out Don's death had made Christine more then bitter, it made her vengeful too, and the only way she knew how to attack was to lash out at the beings that caused it. So what did I do? Panic. Did it help? No. It only made me an enemy of Christine's, just another one of her abominations._

_I was somewhat proud of the new doubt cutting myself open in front of a mortal had instilled in Joe, but if I really wanted to see pure scorn in the old Watcher's eyes so badly, Christine finding the chronicles disk sure did it. I'm still not sure how I got out of that little issue unscathed by more then mere words. Surprisingly it was Joe and Genet who came to blows over it, I had to actually act my age and break it up before someone pulled a gun. Everyone seemed to be doing that a lot in the last few days, wielding guns. And one, masochist idiot that he is, seemed to enjoy jumping in front of them._

_Then everyone's ho-humming about the end of immortal secrecy, and me playing a good act of not caring in the least. And what do I find but that while I'm off trying to contain the hysteria, Amanda and MacLeod are having a bloody tango on the Eiffel Tower. How quaint. Well at least they didn't jump, bunch of bloody hypocrites. All that embracing the new age of open immortality one moment, the next I'm having midnight pep talks with MacLeod about the difference between survival and martyrdom._

_So the Highlander lives, hurrah. Kalas is dead, and about time. And the existence of immortals continues to stay a secret._

_No doubt Amanda and MacLeod are happily shagging right now on the barge. Joe is going to be blessedly busy for a while holding down the Watcher fort until a permanent replacement comes in._

_And me? I'm going to Barbados. I need a vacation after this._

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Author's P.S.: Reviews make me happy. :)


	3. Chivalry

Disclaimer: I do not own Methos or Highlander, sad but true.

Author's Note: Now I bring you Chivalry, enjoy.

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_Nov. 27th, 1995_

_Today I asked MacLeod how he'd lived this long. How did a trusting, naive, gullible, hard headed, asinine Scot make it more then four hundred years with his head still attached? And you know what? I still don't have an answer!_

_I spend six months on a beach, trying to forget the whole catastrophe I left behind in Paris, only to find that trouble does not center itself in Paris. No, it centers itself around Duncan MacLeod. No one else, just him._

_I should of stayed out of it, should of heard what Joe was telling me and gone back to my now quiet little apartment in Paris. But my new title must be 'Highland Nanny', because I can't seem to stop sticking my big nose in and try to help MacLeod out. And what do I get? Tipped on my arse and a healing scratch that's a little too close to my jugular for comfort. Not to mention a Quickening I could of done without._

_MacLeod is still living in the age of chivalry and I can't understand why. These days love songs all sound the same, roses are sold by the dozen so husbands automatically know what to buy for their wives when they've cheated, and a man would rather get through the door first then hold it open for a woman. Wake up, MacLeod! You're leading a one-man parade, and I'm laughing my arse off on the sidelines as you twirl your pansy baton around and pretend it's a sword._

_And while you're trying to defend the lady's honor, she's coming up from behind to take your head. Right after she tries to take Richie's of course. Turns out you have to get in line for the executioner's block these days. I'm sure you're ready to die for you code, MacLeod, but is your friend? I mean, is that what you really want to teach him? You're committing murder then. You've sent him to the gallows and you don't even know it yet._

_So I stepped forward, I played the bad guy so you could see another day. No, don't thank me, don't ask why I haven't taken a head in two hundred years. No, really, it's fine. Just give me a beer and pretend I didn't sacrifice anything. If that's what you want to believe, fine. I'll pretend too; maybe if I drink enough beer I won't see that first spark of mistrust in your eyes._

_Nurture it, MacLeod. That spark might just save your life someday._

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P.S. Review make me happy beyond belief. :)


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